Page 58 of A Wrecking of Salt and Fire

She began to rustle through the wardrobe, looking for warm pants and a knit shirt to shake the cold. “You didn’t answer my question. Why do you not hear them?”

“Trust me, Starling, this time it is better that you don’t know.” He stripped his shirt next, reaching for a dry one on the bed. That’s when she saw them. The jagged lines along his shoulder blades, down his muscled back. Scars not unlike her own. And above them all was a brand. Two snakes intertwined. The same mark as Thalia. The symbol of the nameless ship.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Kohl

Kohl’s father had been angry. For a week he stalked around the Alentian castle, taking his rage out on the innocent staff. He locked himself in the guest chambers at night with an assortment of women from the seaside brothel, smoking that gods awful black substance. His temper grew worse and worse as the days inched closer to the coronation.

Kohl had known his father would never stand for Ember being crowned Prytan of the Spartanis, but it was all he could think to do to show her that he was sorry. He needed to prove that even though he had hurt Ember, he was doing this all for Katrin, for her people. Now they would be his people.

Envy had followed him everyday since arriving on this isle, of what the Drakos family had, the love and support they gave each other. How proud Kora and Aidoneus had been of their children. How different it had been from his mother and father.

Yes—he enacted the Wrecking to help protect Ember against the threat of Nexos, but he could have stepped down. He could have yielded to her, a rightful heir in the Alentian succession. But he had not wanted to. Kohl wanted to prove to his father that he was as ruthless in war and battle and politics as the Viper of Votios. That he could lead one of the isles, just as King Athanas did.

And that driving jealousy and lingering feeling of never being good enough landed him here. King apparent. Those who had become his family hating him. Katrin definitely would when she returned. For harming her sister. For stealing her throne. He would have to think of a way to make her understand. Show her that nothing would be different. Except that was not true. Kohl would be creating the laws and enacting them. He would choose where and when to go into battle. He would rule the people of this land, not her. Katrin would only sit dutifully at his side, like he was supposed to do.

Maybe that was the true reason he wanted this so badly. Kohl thought he could give it all up for her. The power. The title. The need for more. But she squashed those dreams and wants that day in the groves by the mountains. When she stabbed him. When she lied to him. His father had been right. She was indeed nothing more than a means to an end. But he still loved her. At least a part of him still did. Still longed for her acceptance, her touch, her kiss. The way it had been in the years before all this happened. When he was her everything.

Maybe if he found her, if he rescued her again they could return to those two people. The ones who laughed and held onto each other like there was no tomorrow. The children who had raced through the Triad Mountains, swam in the depths under the Alentian caves. Had wanted all that was good in the world.

So he rebelled against his father. Gave Ember the position—that was truthfully hers to begin with—as a last shred of hope that things could be different. That they could get back to those people. The final thing he clung to with all the strength he had.

Kohl swore he’d had a perpetual headache since the Acknowledgement, one that only worsened in his father’s presence. One he was sure would not relent with the coronation looming mere hours away. Especially with his father banging down his door. It seemed as though Kohl would not have a moment of peace today.

“Are you avoiding me, my boy?” his father rattled off as he entered Kohl’s living chambers. King Athanas was already dressed in the traditional dress of Morentius, a silken black overcoat with a short collar, the viper stitched on the left chest and up the back of the coat in red and orange with matching pants that had red and orange trim along the bottom. He had trimmed his beard short so when he spoke the shaven canines were on full display. The gall his father had to suggest he was the one skirting duties, or avoiding the other the past days.

Taking a deep breath, Kohl shut the door to his chambers. This was his day, not his father’s. He was the one who would be crowned King of Alentus. “Of course not, Father. There is just much to do before the coronation. I need to use this time to get ready, not bicker with you.”

His father’s eyes narrowed, gleaming dark obsidian. “You would not need to bicker with me if you had just listened to me in the first place. Instead, you chose that weak girl for one of the highest honors in our isles.”

“Ember is not weak. I think she proved that during the Wrecking.” It was the same conversation every day for the past week. There were times when Kohl thought he might be persuaded to change his mind, just so that his father would leave him be, but he could not give up that one piece of lingering hope for forgiveness. Not yet, at least.

King Athanas paced the room, his hands clenching, avoiding eye contact with Kohl. “She is not a warrior,” he seethed.

“She doesn’t need to be. Not yet. The other members of the Spartanis can hold their own. For now she is merely a figurehead. A bit of familiarity to the people of Alentus.” It was the same song and dance every time with his father. Eventually, King Athanas would huff and sneer and walk off.

“You say you want to protect your beloved’s sister. Then listen to me, boy. If you will not induct the commander as Prytan, then choose someone else. War is coming, sooner than we think. The Spartanis will need to be at the forefront of the battle, leading the charge against Nexos. We cannot have a girl who is not even of age leading our soldiers.”

“Enough, Father. I am tired of repeating this conversation. I have made my decision and it is final,” Kohl growled. He rarely ever—actually never—stood up to his father. “It is the will of the king.”

“You are not a king yet, boy.” His father looked at him, a blinding stare. “Do not forget your place, your loyalty.”

“Is that a threat, Father?” Kohl’s jaw clenched.

“Not a threat, merely a reminder.” His father smiled. “Remember where you came from. How you got here to begin with. Now, if I can’t change your mind, it would seem it is my time to go.” King Athanas walked away, the shimmering viper on his jacket seemed to give a deadly stare as he exited the room.

A chill ran down Kohl’s spine as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Another gods-damned headache. If they did not let up he would need to invest in some sort of tonic to make them go away. He couldn’t focus when they plagued his mind. Could barely think or even see. Kohl took a large sip of his amber liquor, hoping it would dull the pain long enough for him to make it through the coronation.

He would no longer wear his father’s colors—the colors of Morentius. Instead he would don a turquoise overcoat, its cuffs adorned with gold, interlocking stitching. The symbol of the fiery sun and lightning bolt was delicately embroidered up the back. Matching flowing pants of the same turquoise material were covered in stitched gold stars. But the most intricate piece was the crown. The center had the symbol of Alentus engraved in the solid gold relic, three spikes sat on either side, each of them ending in a five pointed star entirely crusted with diamonds and jewels.

Kohl lifted the crown to his head, his dark brown hair left down, grazing just above his shoulders. He looked like one of them, like the family he had always craved. Now he would be part of their world forever, even if Katrin decided not to forgive him.

It was finally time. Time for him to accept the role he fought for. The role he had yearned for since stepping on these shores many years ago.

He headed out of his chambers, dressed as the royalty he would become, and toward the courtyard, where the men and women of Alentus had gathered to see him crowned king and Ember sworn in as Prytan.

As he entered the cheering began, the people clapping, and screaming out their praises. Kohl drank it in, that acknowledgment of who he was—who he was becoming.

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